


regret would break our hearts

by maddy_does (favefangirl)



Series: Merthur Week 2021 [4]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Knows About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Betrayal, Childhood Friends, F/M, Friends to Enemies, Hopeful Ending, Jealousy, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 05:40:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30117984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/favefangirl/pseuds/maddy_does
Summary: Years after Arthur betrayed Merlin's secrets to Uther, he needs the help of the boy he grew up with to save his father.Day 4 ofmerthurweek2021Prompt: "You promised!" "I guess we both broke our promises"
Relationships: Freya/Merlin (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merthur Week 2021 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2211165
Comments: 6
Kudos: 105
Collections: Merthur Week 2021





	regret would break our hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to the admins for running this event <3

It’s the same pair of eyes staring back at him. That’s what really gets Arthur - the eyes. Blue, bright, still one of the most beautiful things Arthur has ever seen. The dark circles beneath them are new, a souvenir from a life Arthur didn’t get to share with him, but the rest is unchanged. Arthur isn’t sure what he was expecting; a different man stood in front of him to compensate for the stranger Merlin has become, perhaps. But it’s Merlin. The same Merlin he played with as a boy, who taught him how to tie knots, and to do a handstand, and to love.

The girl is unfamiliar, as is the sight of Merlin's hand holding someone else’s other than his own. She looks between the two of them, close at Merlin’s side, with a fierce stare from eyes that sit too big on her face. Merlin doesn’t look away, though. It’s almost unnerving, the imperceptible expression. Once Arthur knew Merlin’s features better than his own, and could read him better than any book. It’s the same face, give or take a few years, but it's now completely foreign to Arthur.

He’d come to find Merlin, he'd looked for him, following whispers throughout the kingdom until he felt everyone in Camelot must only tell half-truths. Still, the shock of actually seeing him in the flesh, even after all his searching, even after the years of dreaming of a moment just like this, paralyses him. Rooted to the spot, mouth agape with surprise, heart thundering in his chest - there are a million things he wants to say, that he knows Merlin deserves to hear, but the words stay lodged in his throat and it’s all he can do to stare.

“Arthur,” Merlin says finally, in a voice far deeper than the one Arthur knew. “What are you doing here?”

The girl is still watching him, but her expression has changed at the sound of his name. She pushes back her shoulders and lifts her chin, staring him down rather than shrinking away from him. He knows he is no friend of the druids, but from the sharpness of her glare, he wonders if there’s perhaps a personal tinge to her hatred. He forces his eyes away, and observes Merlin’s impassive expression, hoping to find some semblance more of the boy that he knew.

“I know I am probably not welcome here,” Arthur begins, finally remembering how to make his vocal chords work. “And I know no Prince of Camelot has a right to ask favours of the druids, but my father-”

“The druids have no business with your father,” the girl spits, shifting forward. 

Merlin pulls her back lightly, and they seem to have a conversation with just their eyes. He and Arthur used to be able to do that, to communicate whole speeches across a room with just a glance. Now Arthur can’t even tell how Merlin feels. It seems to put the distance - the years and the miles - between them into perspective, and it makes his heart ache for all that time lost that can never be taken back.

“What of your father?” Merlin asks, and based on the scowl on the girls face, this enquiry is not with her blessing.

“He's sick,” Arthur replies, and he notices a faint smile dance momentarily across the girl’s face. “He's going to die. Please, I know he has no right to ask your help-”

“You’re right, he doesn't,” Merlin interrupts. “All people die, even a king. Death is life.”

Arthur struggles to see any of the boy he knew in the man before him. Merlin was kind, was gentle, wanted to help others whatever the cost to himself. This man is hard, is strong, has been broken by the world in such a way that has cost him any innocence he might once have possessed. Arthur presses his lips together against the tears that spring in his eyes, and doesn’t even find it in himself to care if the desperation he feels shows on his face.

Merlin turns to leave, led by the girl, so Arthur calls urgently: “My father isn’t asking, I am.”

Merlin pauses at that, and it's enough to tell Arthur that somewhere beyond the hard exterior of the man he has become, the boy still lives.

Arthur doesn’t fool himself into thinking that Merlin agreeing to help Uther means that anything else from that life perseveres. He knows that this is likely a favour less for Arthur and more to try and show that magic is not evil, the first of many steps towards a future alliance between the druids and the castle. Arthur had heard the rumours of such a deal being struck across his travels, though felt much f it was likely fantasy. The girl accompanies them as they return to the castle, unwilling to let Merlin go for even a second - Freya, Arthur thinks her name is, catching the affection in Merlin's tone as he speaks to her. It’s obvious she doesn’t trust him.

Arthur can hardly blame her. He has done nothing to earn it, and is now leading her through a square that has seen more of her kind killed than perhaps any other single spot in the kingdom. The guards throw questioning looks as Arthur demounts his horse and begins leading the two of them into the castle, but no one dares say anything, not to the man on the verge of becoming King. Arthur hopes they don’t remember Merlin, and if they do, then have at least forgotten there is a warrant out for his arrest.

Arthur leads them both through the castle to Uther’s chambers. He pushes the door open and makes to enter the room when Leon, stationed at the door, halts him. “I’m afraid I can’t allow all three of you to enter,” he says, flicking his eyes briefly to Merlin and Freya, before looking back at Arthur. "Gaius' orders: no overcrowding."

Arthur turns and sees Freya take a step closer to Merlin, glaring at Leon. “It’s okay,” Merlin soothes, extracting his arm from her grip. “Wait out here, I won’t be long.”

They have another silent conversation before she eventually nods and drops her arms. She steps back, suspicious of Leon, and nods again at Merlin. He turns and jerks his chin at the door to instruct Arthur to enter. Inside is his father laid unconscious on the bed where he left him days before as he set out to find the druids. Sweat has soaked through his bed clothes into the sheets, and his hair sticks to his forehead. He's pale, and Arthur can scarcely look at how weak and vulnerable he appears. It's alien to see his father as anything other than strong and heroic.

Merlin hesitates a moment, before walking over to the bed. He places a hand above Uther’s face, and mutters words Arthur doesn’t understand. He knows it’s magic when Merlin’s eyes glow golden, before dimming away into their normal blue - he knows which one he thinks looks more beautiful. He looks Uther up and down, lip all but curling in disdain, before looking up at Arthur. Arthur braces himself for whatever horrible news Merlin will deliver. He knows his father is not perfect, but he's still his father, he still loves him and hates the thought of losing him.

“I can cure him,” Merlin says finally. “There is a spell.” Arthur exhales in relief, feeling the tension dissipate from his body.

“Thank you, Merlin,” Arthur breathes. “I know I can never repay you for this, I-”

“You can,” Merlin interrupts. His voice is stoic and has been since Arthur found him. His face, too, is impassive. There’s something unnerving about his calmness. “You can promise never to come looking for the druids again.” That throws Arthur. He hadn’t really considered beyond this, getting his father back to health, but of course there is a future to look to once Uther is well again. “Not that your promises mean much.”

If Merlin had hit him, it probably would have hurt less than the blow accompanying those words. Arthur tried to forget it, what transpired before Merlin left. The guilt eats him up when he ponders too long, gnawing at him from the inside out until he feels hollow. He hadn’t meant to, honestly he hadn’t. He never would have intentionally put Merlin at risk, but he was a child so desperate for his father’s love he could think of little else. He still remembers the anguish in Merlin's eyes the day Arthur told him he had to leave. He used to wish he could forget it, as the guilt threatened to drown him, but he's long since realised he doesn't deserve to.

“And you?” Arthur counters, embarrassment triggering his defence. “You swore you would only ever use your magic for me. **You promised!** You said you could never love another, and that we'd always find our way back together to unite Camelot.”

Merlin looks at him, and there is no trace of that love left. Arthur doesn’t blame him, not really, however much it might be easier to. **“I guess we both broke our promises,”** Merlin says, finally. He looks away, and for the briefest moment, a flicker of emotion passes over his expression that triggers a weightless feeling in Arthur, and he has to hold onto the bedpost at his side to stay upright. “You should stand outside,” Merlin says, and the emotion is very much absent as he does.

Arthur hesitates a moment before nodding and doing as he is asked. He emerges, and Freya is stood against the wall, still peering at Leon from below her eyelashes, something like hate written across her features. For his part, Leon looks uncomfortable, staring straight ahead in a purposeful endeavour not to meet the hard gaze. Arthur looks between them and wonders if such a rift is so apparent between he and Merlin, even after they spent their childhoods all but inseparable.

“Leon, you can leave us. I will guard my father,” Arthur says.

Leon is a diligent knight, and in any other situation he might have defied Arthur’s wish and kept his post. However, there is something almost supernatural about the harsh stare Freya is sending him, and a stronger man than Leon would not have been able to stand it. With a slight incline to Arthur, he took off to do a round of the castle, shaking his head slightly as he went. Arthur takes Leon’s place by the door, and finally dares to meet Freya’s eye.

“I am sorry,” he says after a long silence. “I’ve already promised Merlin that you won’t be bothered again.” Freya’s expression doesn’t change, though he hardly expects any thanks. “You love him, don’t you?”

Freya tilts her head at him, and that alone is more expressive than anything Merlin has done during their interaction. “So do you,” she replies. It's not an accusation but an observation; he wonders how obvious he had been. Her mouth twitches. “The problem is, he loves you, too.” Arthur straightens at that, trying to reconcile love with the disdain Merlin has shown him the entire time they’ve been back together. “More than me,” Freya continues. She looks him up and down. “You took his home from him, and he can’t stop loving you.” She takes a step forward, and Arthur has never felt more vulnerable in his life. 

The door beside them opens, and Merlin steps out. He looks pale, and Freya rushes to his side immediately, forgetting all animosity towards Arthur. He lets her take his arm, but his gaze is fixed on Arthur. “He’ll heal,” he says, sounding as tired as he looks. “Gaius will be able to give him an elixir to speed up the recovery.”

In all these years since Merlin was banished from Camelot, Arthur has never considered how much and he and Gaius must miss each other, too. “Would you like to see him before you leave?” It’s risky - the longer Merlin stays in the castle, the more likely someone might discover who he is. But Arthur stripped Merlin of everything he loved once before, and would do anything if it meant he could give Merlin back even a little.

“No. We'll leave now,” Merlin replies. He finally looks at Freya who just nods at him. “Remember your promise, Arthur,” Merlin says before walking away down the corridor towards the stables.

Arthur stares after him, a longing taking hold of his chest even as the guilt increases in the knowledge that he betrayed Merlin in the worst way possible, tearing him from his home and his family and his friends. He has never felt whole in Merlin's absence, a piece of his soul seemingly lost to the wind. He makes himself a promise then: when he becomes king, Camelot will be a safe place for sorcerers. He will open its gates to all those who have magic, and try to form an alliance with the druids if he can. He knows Merlin told him to stay well away, but resolves peace will be far more beneficial than estrangement. He's broken promises to Merlin before. What's one more for a chance at redemption?

**Author's Note:**

> hate this but we move. it was just a lot better in my head, lmao. thanks for reading anyway, though!
> 
> anyway, if you wanna leave a comment or kudos, they're much appreciated! especially let me know if there was something you think i forgot to tag! i also got a bit confused with tenses in the edit, lol, so sorry about that.
> 
> i'm taking prompts! if you're interested please drop the prompt in the comments below. if you do send a prompt be prepared for me to take fifty years to fill it because uni is so hard, but i promise i'll try! come say hi on tumble: [@maddy-does](https://maddy-does.tumblr.com/)
> 
> thanks for reading, have a wonderful existence.


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